


Crescendo

by huntuer (tuffbeifong)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, F/F, cello player!anna, drum major!jo, like is it just me or is that super hot, pretending to hate each other to hide their true feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 20:39:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2322449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuffbeifong/pseuds/huntuer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna Milton is the school's prodigal cello player, the leader of the orchestra. Jo Harvelle is the star trumpeter and drum major of the marching band. Their animosity for each other is old news; their fights over the limited practice space are a daily band room routine. But lately Jo's found that it's harder and harder to tell herself that her feelings for Anna don't go further than competitive enmity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crescendo

**Author's Note:**

> [accompanying edit](http://annaharvelle.co.vu/post/97783909476/joannael-high-school-au-orchestra-anna)

Jo turned at the sound of an exaggerated sigh: unsurprisingly, Anna Milton stood in the band room doorway, her arms crossed and her eyes rolling. 

“Here we go,” Jo muttered under her breath to Dean, who smiled knowingly and turned back to the other band leaders. 

“Harvelle, you know it’s our day to use the rehearsal room,” Anna said, now flanked by some other orchestra members.

“It’s funny, though, because we don’t _have_ a rehearsal room. This is the _band_ room. It says so right there, on the door,” Jo said in a fake pleasant voice, hopping over a couple of chairs to stand in front of Anna, crossing her own arms to mirror the other girl, their noses only inches apart. 

The room, band and orchestra members alike, turned away with disinterest. This argument was nothing new, instead just the latest incarnation of what had become an almost daily occurrence in the band room.

“Harvelle, I’m not saying you guys don’t need the practice, because I’ve heard you, but I’m not seeing how you practicing a band arrangement of ‘Thriller’ should take precedent over our rehearsal for the orchestra concert. We’re playing Swan Lake. you know, actual music?”

Jo felt her jaw clench at the jab at her band; it was early in the season, they were working out a few kinks. But she swallowed her irritation and replied coolly, “Yeah, your concert. How many people are you expecting this year? Six, maybe seven? We have a home game Friday, it’s one of those events that people actually go to.”

“Of course. And they let you perform in the middle so everyone has a chance to go to the bathroom and concessions.”

Jo let out a harsh laugh, eyeing the other girl up and down. As usual, she looked pristine: her vibrant red hair perfectly in place, a form-fitted sweater tucked neatly into a pleated skirt that ended high enough to still show off her long, slender legs. 

Suddenly self-conscious, Jo raised a hand to her forehead trying to shove a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. By contrast, she was wearing her usual jean shorts and plaid shirt, her band varsity jacket thrown overtop and her hair in a haphazard ponytail. She started to speak and then stopped herself, before turning and walking away from Anna. 

“Marching band! I changed my mind, we’ll have an outdoor rehearsal today. Put your cases away, I wanna see everyone with their instruments at set one of Thriller in 5 minutes!”

Jo ignored the surprised confusion from the band and orchestra members and grabbed her binder of music, leading the way out the door towards the practice field. She heard jogging footsteps and Dean fell into step next to her. 

“I’ve never seen you give up that easily,” he said, his voice careful. 

“Don’t worry about it, Dean,” Jo replied, her voice low and dangerous. Dean shrugged, parting ways with her to head to the other side of the field, finding his first spot for the show. 

Jo wasn’t about to admit it, even to Dean, but she just hadn't been in the mood for her usual argument with Anna today. Not after she’d seen the way Anna blushed in history, talking to Adam Milligan. Sitting on his desk, her skirt riding up to reveal her lightly freckled thighs. Jo shook her head, trying to rid herself of the image and remind herself that Milton was nothing but an orchestra snob and an annoyance. 

But as she watched the band file out to the field and take their positions, her mind was still fixated on that blushing smile and the way it was directed at someone that was definitely not Jo. 

* * *

Anna leaned back in her chair, stealing a glance out the window to where she could see the marching band, with Jo up on her podium conducting and shouting instructions. 

“That was a short fight,” Hannah said conversationally, prompting Anna to snap back to the room, where the rest of the orchestra was warming up for their rehearsal. 

“Yeah,” Anna replied, noncommittally. She didn’t know what made Jo give up so easy, but she didn’t like the way that her confident smile had faltered into a frown, and the way she didn’t look Anna in the eyes. That wasn’t the Jo she’d come to know the last few months. 

She picked up her bow, trying out a few notes, but as their rehearsal continued, she found herself more distracted than ever by the waving blonde ponytail visible through the window. 

* * *

 

 

“See you guys Friday night. Don’t forget hats, plumes, gloves!” Jo was shouting after the last group of band members as they filed out of the room after rehearsal. Anna stayed quiet, waiting until Jo shouldered her bag and turned around to speak.

“What’s your problem today, Harvelle?” Anna asked, her voice softer than her words. 

“I’m not in the mood, Anna,” Jo replied, avoiding the other girl’s eyes as she tried to go around her. Anna cut her off, her frown deepening. 

“And since when do you call me Anna? I thought I was ‘Milton.’”

“Does it really matter what I call you?” Jo asked, exasperated. 

Anna continued frowning, unsure what to say. This was uncharted territory, speaking so candidly. They only ever shared snarky comments and jabs, and looking back, Anna didn’t think she could remember an exchange that wasn’t an argument. 

But they were never malicious. For all their taunting and insults, there was no part of Anna that doubted that Jo enjoyed their bickering as much as she did. But not today. Today, Jo looked exhausted and a little hurt, and it bothered Anna much more than she would’ve expected it to. 

“Are you coming to the orchestra concert?” Anna asked after a moment. 

“Why would I?” Jo replied, still looking everywhere but Anna’s eyes. 

“You usually do. I always see you there.” Anna’s voice was getting quieter, softer. 

“Well, you’ll just have to give my seat to Adam Milligan.” Jo hated herself for saying it before it was even out of her mouth, but there was no taking it back. She wanted to smack herself: it was no business of hers who Anna flirted with. She had no right to be angry. 

“What the hell does he have to do with anything?” Anna asked, bewildered. 

“I…saw you guys talking earlier. Seemed…real chummy.” 

“ _Chummy_?” Anna repeated, an eyebrow raised in confusion. But slowly her expression turned to one of understanding: and then she started laughing. 

“What is wrong with you?!” Jo asked, stepping back from Anna as the girl doubled over in laughter. 

“You thought I was flirting with Adam? That I liked him?”

“No—I—“

“You did!”

“Why is that so funny?”

“Because,” Anna said, standing back up straight and wiping a tear from under her eye. “Because I was asking him for advice. Advice for how I should go about asking you out.”

Jo was silent, shocked. Then, stepping forward, she pulled Anna in, one hand on her waist and one on her cheek, kissing her. 

Anna returned the kiss, still laughing into Jo’s mouth. Anna started to say something, but Jo pulled back and laid a finger over her mouth. 

"I swear to god, Milton, just this once, shut up."

And for once, Anna didn't argue.


End file.
